


Christmas Bells

by Astomera



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 23:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astomera/pseuds/Astomera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel spends Christmas with Sam and Dean for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Bells

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Koestiel](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Koestiel).



"Anybody here?" Dean calls out as he opens the door. His eyes flicker around the motel room quickly, taking in shadows, corners, and furniture anyone can hide behind. It's habit, of course. He doesn't notice himself doing it anymore.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel is sitting in a ratty arm chair with his hands in his lap.

"Cas. Where's Sam?" Setting his crates of beer on the table, the bottles clink together and, for this one instance, remind Dean of bells. He sits down on one of the two beds and begins to untie his boot laces. "Cas?"

It is Christmas Eve, but there are no bells.

"Sam isn't far. He's buying something for you," Castiel says without inflection. Dean grunts and is about to say something but the angel continues. "Dean, I don't know how to celebrate the birth of Christ here."

He smiles bitterly to himself. Cas watches as he loosens his shoelaces and doesn't see his expression.

"It's easy: drink beer. Eat food. Annoy your family." He chucks his boots one at a time across the room and stretches back on the bed.

There's plenty of beer now, Cas thinks. Angels don't have an appetite or need for nutrition though. And his family...well, he didn't think he annoyed them, but Castiel did enjoy spending time with the Host when he could. He celebrated many things with his brothers when he wasn't fighting or working as a tactician. He found peace in the midst of other angels.

Or he did, at least. Since his rebellion Castiel has no place among his brethren.

"Would you like to sing with me?" he offers to Dean. In his natural form, he sang with comfort. Every angel sang as one, he remembered fondly. Their voices rang out in effortless harmony singing praises and prayers. He yearned for song now, though he would hardly admit it.

Dean laughs and gets up to crack open a beer.

"What, Jingle Bells?" he snorts. Castiel regards him with an open expression.

"I don't know the words."

"It's okay," Dean offers. "You don't want to. Here." He passes a bottle over and looks out the window for a little while.

***

A few hours later, Sam has returned and Dean is outdrinking him. Even if all they know is work, no one brings up any recent cases. Instead, they swap perspectives on some old but memorable cases and share some laughs.

"See, Cas? This is good. This is good." Dean smiles into his bottle and sweeps a hand lazily through the air. "Booze, babes, buds. The good stuff. Merry Christmas." Castiel corrects him after a moment of thought.

"The babe Jesus." Sam looks at Dean and they break into peals of laughter again.

"Sure, Cas."

"Merry Christmas," Sam chimes in.

"Merry Christmas," the angel agrees. He figures he should try asking Sam this time. "Do you ever sing?"

"No, not really." The younger Winchester smiles at him. "Do you? Most angels can sing, right?"

"All angels celebrate through song," he confirms. "Though there is no one time Christ's birth is celebrated in heaven. We have many things to be thankful for and we keep them in mind." Cas stares at Dean and Sam pretends not to notice.

"Oh, I see. You...you should sing us a song."

"My true voice would deafen you," Castiel states. Dean can't help but scoff; that's obvious enough. How could anyone forget? "I have never attempted to sing within a vessel. I'm not sure Jimmy knows how."

They move onto other subjects and Castiel thinks of bells for much of the night, and of the voices of his brothers.

***

Sam is passed out on one of the beds after a time. Dean slurs his words every now and then but his company is appreciated; Cas listens to his jokes and rambling with fondness.

"Oh man," he grunts. "My ears are ringing. I need some air." Castiel follows him out when he goes and moves toward the Impala automatically. "Hey." Dean grabs Cas's arm. "Let's walk somewhere. It's not too cold." Leaving the Impala behind is not something Dean Winchester usually does, but he isn't argued with.

"I will follow you." Dean lets go of his arm and gives him an unreadable look.

"Okay."

The brisk night air sobers Dean up. He walks with his hands in his jacket pockets and thinks about the people in the houses they walk by. Some have strings of lights adorning them, or big enough windows that he can see a tree inside. He knows it's sometime past midnight. Kids are sleeping and parents, he imagines, are placing presents and stuffing stockings...a holiday he never remembers experiencing, or at least not like that. Even now he tries to make it a good day for Sammy. He always tried, if it meant stealing from truck stops or only being able to afford peanut M&Ms. He took care of Sam. He gave him whatever he could.

"Merry Christmas, Dean," Cas says suddenly. Dean's thoughts scatter like fireflies from open hands. His mind goes blank for a moment.

"Yeah. You too, Cas." He's got Sam sleeping back at the motel and Cas by his side. His two best men on Christmas? That's all Dean can ask for. "Let's head back; it's cold."

Cas steps closer to his side and Dean can tell, but he doesn't move farther away for the walk back.

"Sam gave you shaving razors and some music for Christmas. Did you give him anything?"

"Yeah, there's this old book I picked up a few weeks ago. It's still sitting at the bottom of my bag though. I'll give it to him when he wakes up." He smiles like he always does when he thinks of Sam, Castiel notes. "I can get him anything with words and he'll be happy."

"I'd like to give you something as well." With a ruffle of his wings, Cas vanishes. Dean stares at the space he used to be.

"Great," he mutters. He's used to Cas's disappearing act but he's not accustomed to receiving gifts. For all he knows, he could be getting anything from an issue of Hustler to a can of refried beans. Either of those would be good, now that he thinks about it...

"Dean." Oh, he's back. Straightening up, Dean takes a quick look around to see if anyone noticed the angel's disappearance, but the street is empty and most lights are still out.

Cas holds out his hand. In it is a single large, silver bell. Dean looks at it. It's very shiny and...bell-like. He holds out his own hand and Cas places the bell in it gently.

He's quiet as he looks at the bell. Then he rings it.

Cas meets his eyes with uncertainty.

"Jingle bells," Castiel says in his usual gruff voice, but he doesn't say what the bell really means to him. The joke will have to suffice.

Dean chuckles and gives Cas a warm, kind smile. It's the kind of smile that is rarely seen from him, the kind of smile that fills Castiel up from his toes to his ears with happy satisfaction.

He rings the bell once more before putting it in his jacket pocket.

"Thanks." The angel nods at the hunter and tries to communicate poetry with his eyes, but Dean is no poet. Still, he feels pleased about the whole exchange.

They continue their walk back to the motel in companionable silence.


End file.
